To Catch A Thief
by K.C Daring
Summary: Twenty-five year old Inuyasha is a street wise detective on the hunt for an international art thief, that seems to know his every move. Twenty-six year old Miroku is a simple bartender with a secret. Two friends linked and fated to betrayal. Characters used: Inuyasha, Miroku, Sango, Kagome, Koga, Ayame, Sesshomaru, Naraku, Hakudoshi, and Kikyo.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story. All rights go to Rumiko Takahashi. That is all.

Summary: Twenty-five year old Inuyasha is a street wise detective on the hunt for an international art thief, that seems to know his every move. Twenty-six year old Miroku is a simple bartender with a secret. Two friends linked and fated to betrayal.

**Prologue**

(Inuyasha's POV)

My white hair tosses in the breeze and I'm so close to catching the bastard that's been evading me for months. I quickly turn the corner and find the strength to pick

up speed. "Stop running!" I yell as the man cloaked in black dashed into a mall and amidst the crowd. "Crap." Swearing under my breath, I sweep my golden eyes

over the crowd, scanning quickly. 'He will not escape me this time.' I consider drawing my gun, but creating a panic would help nothing. Then I notice something that

catches my eye, the quick movement of dark fabric as it disappears behind a wall. Grinning now, I continue my pursuit of a thrifty thief. I weave my way through the

mass of living, breathing, and talking obstacles, in search of a criminal. 'Where could he have gone?'

* * *

I soon find myself in an nearly empty store, the only item that is in sight is a familiar black cloak. "Son of a bitch."

I mutter as I pick up the black clothing in a tight

fist, my mouth set in a firm line. Anger grips my nerves and I reflexively punch the floor, unaware of the pain my provoked reaction caused. I cram the evidence into

a plastic bag, throwing my patience to the wind. "This isn't over..." I gather myself enough to get to my feet and scan the room one more time. I tuck the evidence

bag under my arm and walk back out into the bustling crowd, making my way to the elevator. I ignore the distractions around me, there's only one thing on my one

tracked mind. I need a drink to rid myself of this tension. I know just what the cure is; thirty minutes in a bar to hash out everything with my favorite bartender and

best friend.


	2. I'll Get Him!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story, all rights go to Rumiko Takahashi.

Summary: Twenty-five year old Inuyasha is a street wise detective on the hunt for an international art thief, that seems to know his every move. Twenty-six year old Miroku is a simple bartender with a secret. Two friends linked and fated to betrayal.

**Chapter 1: I'll Get Him!**

**(Inuyasha's POV)**

He sits another glass in front of me and grabs the two empty ones. "So what did you come here for, aside from the whiskey anyway?" I roll my shoulders a few times, to chase the tension away. "He escaped me again, I was so damn close. I swear I'll catch that thief one of these days, you'll see." He offers an easy smile as he washes the cups he just took from me. "I don't doubt you at all, when you set your mind to something, you succeed." I grin, my ego slightly boosting. "You bet, that guy is as good as jailed now. He left evidence this time." Miroku's eyebrow lifts in question. "Is that so?" I slam my fist against the bar, causing the man in the corner to jump. "Yes! Clothing. It can contain his hair or even traces of skin. DNA evidence. His fate is sealed." The corners of his mouth turn upwards. "I guess that thief underestimated you, there was his mistake." I take a quick drink of my whiskey and feel it's warmth in my throat. "I don't think he knows who he's messing with."

Miroku puts the cups in the cabinet under the bar. "So you still have no clue who the thief is?" I become a little confused by this question, he has never asked something like that before. "Not yet, but I will find him." He gets himself a bottle of water and opens it quickly. I watch him take a drink and I chuckle. "How can you be around so much alcohol and not drink it?" He laughs as he sets his bottle down. "I've seen how it makes people act, I much prefer to watch other people get drunk, than doing so myself." I frown, feigning anger. "What are you trying to say? I don't think I appreciate your tone." He gives a quiet laugh, I have come to realize that Miroku is a very subdued person. "I wasn't referring to you, just people in general. I've actually never even seen you drunk." I take another quick pull from my glass, getting tired of the taste. "Have you ever been drunk?" The bottles he's placing on the shelf, chime as they make contact. "Honestly, no. I have been serving drinks since I turned twenty-one and I get so tired of the smell, they I can't even get myself to drink some."

Sometimes I find it hard to believe him, but I guess what he said kinda makes sense. I'm actually quite impressed. He works with the public, drunks, and horny singles, he deals with bar fights, over inflated egos, and sobbing patrons...and even though liquor is within his reach, he doesn't drink it to unwind. "Then how on earth do you relax after a long days work?" He finishes with whatever it is he's doing with the bottles. "I thought we were discussing your day, not wondering about my life. If you must know, I read." I finish off the rest of my unwanted drink and slide the glass to him. "Boring. Clean my glass barkeep." I hear his exasperated sigh as he grabs the cup, I grin, pleased that I am able to annoy him with such little effort. "You should at least taste it man." He washes my cup, his face showing how irritated he is. "I'd rather not, I'm just not into it. Why don't we just go back to talking about your day?" I rest my elbows on the bar, my face weary from the long day. "Okay, but first, I want a cheeseburger."

After waiting fifteen minutes, I now get to enjoy a late dinner. This bar is the only place I can go and boss my best friend around and he actually has to do what I say. Don't get me wrong, he still gives me that drop dead look, but he has to take my order regardless, and he is always willing to listen to my troubles. "So how did he escape you this time?" I take a another bite of my burger, chew, and swallow before I take the time to respond. "I'm still not completely sure, that guy is smart, maybe too smart." He sets a glass of soda in front of me and hands me a couple napkins. "You really think so?" I clean the grease from my fingers, Miroku really knows how to make a good cheeseburger. "Yes, it's like he has every possible outcome planned out. He ran into a mall, I thought I would nab him in there. Instead, he ran straight for an unopened store and somehow he knew how to get out. This man knows how to strategize for any situation." He shrugs now and walks away to serve a women who just made her way inside and to the bar.

I continue to sit there and eat, but thinking about the thief like I am, I begin to stew. I just had to pick a career that constantly has me stressed, Miroku, on the other hand, has life all figured out. He's in here living the high life, that pretty girl that just came in, is flirting for sure. His smile was kind, but he seemed completely uninterested in her advances, almost like he deals with this on the daily basis. He has pretty girls come in and flirt with him more than once a day and yet he's still single. Sometimes I think that there may be something wrong with him, I'd have been dating every night if I were him. I watch him hand her some brightly colored and probably fruity drink, he says something, and she giggles in a bubbly manner. He finally makes his way back to me, looking slightly amused by the lady's behavior. "That's the day in the life of a bartender." I give him an easy glance. "Excuse me if I don't feel sorry for you, but you are leaving the good life."

He leans against the bar, opposite of me, and gives me an unamused look. "You may think my job is all fun and games, but I have to do everything to keep this bar in business. I check inventory, I have to pay bills and employees, I have to make repairs, worry about passing inspections, and keep this place clean, all because I can't pay for a cleaning crew. I'm stressed and I still have debts to pay off." I stare at him, my face blank, anyone who knows me would know that I would not go through all that trouble to keep a family bar open. I wouldn't care if my grandfather and father owned it before me, I would not want to inherit this money pit. "Why don't you just sell this place? You know all this stress will send you to an early grave." He rakes his hand through his jet black hair and sighs softly. "You know me well enough to know that I am not a quitter, I'll do anything to save my father's dream." He adjusts the tip apron that is tied around his waist, over dark blue jeans, his nametag pinned to his black V-neck t-shirt. He always gets to dress comfortably, I look down at my red polo and black slacks and frown.

Then his words truly hit me, he said his father's dream, I will truly never understand him. "What's your dream though? You can't live your whole life trying to live your father's dream. Dream your own dreams." He gives me a skeptical stare with those all seeing eyes of his. "Why did you get into law inforcement?" My eyebrow instinctively quirks upwards, I've told him this before, but before I could catch on to the trap he has laid out, it is too late. "My father was a cop as was his father before him, it's in my blood." He grins smuggly as realization crosses my features, I had walked right into this one, I should have seen it coming. "Just as law inforcement is a part of you, this business is a part of me. I can't let this place go, besides, I've lost more than I will get if I sell it." I know what he's saying is true, this place is worthless in it's current condition. "So you're just gonna keep sinking your money into this place, until you go bankrupt?" He looks around the small space, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. "I hope it doesn't get to that point, but I'll do what I have to."

He shakes his head, as though he's warding off a negative thought, and he forces a weak smile. "That's enough about me. You had a rough day, you should vent." Maybe I had dug at his situation at little too much, he's always been desperate to keep this place open. "I need to get back to the lab and see if Shippo found anything in the cloak. We could be that much closer to finding out who 'The Ghost' is." His gives me a quick sidelong glance, I can't quite read the hidden something in his eyes. "The ghost? Why do you call him that?" I frown in an extremely annoyed manner, getting ticked at just the thought of that bastard. "He never leaves any trances or clues, it's almost like he was never there. No being caught on camera, nor has there been any witnesses...it's almost as though he is a ghost." I feel my eyes flame with anger and I clench my fist tightly, anger burning me to the core. "And when I finally get my hands on him, I promise I will land one good blow, I earned that much." I don't know why, but Miroku turns away from me, and starts cleaning a sink. "So you're that angry?"

I stare at him quizzically, my golden eyes full of question and maybe a hint of suspicion. "Why does it matter if I'm angry? I've told you all the crap that man has put me through, you should understand my anger." He shrugs off my statement, his back still to me, I am still unable to read him. "Maybe he has a reason for why he's doing all that he has." I scoff at his statement, not trying to hide the aggravation that is beginning to grip me. "Why are you defending the bad guy? He's stolen thousands of dollars worth of irreplaceable art and artifacts. The man is a crook." Miroku turns to me, his smile kind and amused. "You don't have to get all defensive, I understand your frustration and anger. I'm just saying that maybe he is doing this for a greater purpose, there's always a reason." I take what he says into consideration, but I still don't understand why he even cares about the reason the thief steals. I've talked about cases with him before, not on stuff that is confidentual, but the things that piss me off. Although none of that is my point, the matter at hand is that Miroku has never once defended a criminal. So why now?

Still resting my elbows on the freshly cleaned bar, I stare at him. "Why does his intentions and reasons even matter to you? The fact is, he is a thief." He picks up the empty basket, that had at one point, held my burger. "I've always given the people on the other end, the benefit of the doubt, I've just never brought it up to you before. People have their reasons for every choice they make, that is human nature." I take a pull from my soda glass, still eying him with an unhidden look of question. "Why mention it now? I don't get it, you aren't making any sense." I hear the giggling girl sit down next to me. "Hello there." I look to my right and discover big blue eyes are staring straight at me. "What are you doing here, handsome?" I find myself beginning to smile, despite the fact that blondes aren't my type. I have always prefered girls with dark hair and brown eyes, but I don't see why this girl couldn't entertain me for a while. I hear Miroku chuckle, but he serves her the second drink she had order only moments ago. "I'll pay for this one, Miroku." He nods at me, then goes back to the store room, leaving me with the tipsy woman.

I was right to believe that she would entertain me, Missie was quite interesting, though I couldn't see myself dating her. She was funny enough, but a little sloppy, and desperate. I watch her stumble out the door with the man from the corner, the bar now nearly empty. I sit there tapping my fingers against the old granite bar, bored, and wondering what Miroku could possibly be doing back there. "Hey Miroku! I'm heading out!" I listen for a moment, waiting for him to respond, then I hear his distant muffled voice. "Okay, but you better leave the money for your bill, don't stiff me again!" I chuckle to myself, I don't see why he won't let me open a tab. I come here often enough and I'd pay him back...eventually. I stand up and casually toss some money on the bar, not leaving him a tip, I'm not made of money. I pull on my jacket quickly and walk out the door, just as Miroku walks back to the front. He quickly counts the money and I hear him shout. "Yeah, thanks for the tip!" I smile to myself and offer a casual wave over my shoulder.


End file.
